


roman candles

by kaithartic (bluedreaming)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Road Trip, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-23 01:11:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6099964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluedreaming/pseuds/kaithartic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Like an unexpected letter, the memory, when recalled, only disintegrated into something else, unable to withstand the pressure of the present.</em><br/>Jongin gets an unexpected letter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	roman candles

**Author's Note:**

> Listen to this [Home](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=izPSMup8SMU) by Will Hanson (used for the [trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=su75_mcryO4%22) for the film On The Road) while you read this.

_”The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.”_

 

Baekhyun wipes greasy hands across his thighs, the fabric smearing black, like the tar that stains the road, gripping the bottoms of worn rubber tires as they turn off to explore another side road.

“It’ll run,” he says, but he doesn’t sound overly optimistic; he’s tired, wiping a hand across a sweaty brow, sigh dissipating into the air. Sehun crawls over the back seat from where he’s been napping, sleep crusted eyes red around the rims, but he reaches out to pull Baekhyun in for a kiss anyway, greasy hands and stained pants and all.

“Thank you,” he can hear Sehun murmur in Baekhyun’s ear; Jongin drains the last few drops of water from the bottle, tipping his head back and staring at the sun.

It’s bright, as suns usually are.

The leather of the driver’s seat is warm under his legs, even through the worn fabric of his jeans as he slides behind the wheel.

“Onwards,” he says, quietly. Baekhyun is already asleep; Sehun rubbing a soothing thumb over the back of his hand, the other reaching out to brush fingers against the sensitive skin of Jongin’s neck.

“Sorry I can’t ride shotgun,” he says, but Jongin only smiles.

“It’s okay,” he says. “Baekhyun worked hard.” He smooths his fingers through Baekhyun's hair, letting the silky bleached strands flow like silk; Jongin watches for a moment before turning back to push the key into the slot, turn on the engine with a low growl as it rumbles into life beneath him.

 

_“A pain stabbed my heart, as it did every time I saw a girl I loved who was going the opposite direction in this too-big world.”_

 

He got the letter in the mail, a surprise in and of itself. Even bills didn't come in the mail anymore, the post relegated to obscure notices and parcel delivery.

"What's that?" Baekhyun asked, cheeks flushed from the spring breeze, shrugging out of his coat as he kicked off his shoes in the entryway of their apartment.

"A letter," Jongin said, turning it over in his hand. The return address was smudged, perhaps rain or just the passing of time; the paper was yellowing and he wondered how old it was. How it had managed to trace its way to him.

"Who's it from?" Baekhyun asked, curious as always as he headed for the fridge to pull out the pitcher of water and pour it down his throat, not bothering to get a glass.

"Ugh," Sehun made a face, walking out of the bedroom stretching one arm upwards so that the hem of his t-shirt pulled up, flashing the soft skin of his stomach. Baekhyun, lowering the near-empty pitcher from his mouth, winked as he ran a pink tongue over wet lips. "You're so gross," Sehun groused, turning towards Jongin. "What's that?"

"I got a letter," Jongin repeated, adding after a moment, "but I don't know who it's from."

"What are you waiting for?" Baekhyun said impatiently, turning to refill the pitcher from the filtered water tap, the sound another texture to the white noise of the background.

Jongin couldn't explain, but the letter gave him a strange feeling, a kind of nostalgia that he somehow knew would hit harder once he actually opened it.

 

_“I realized these were all the snapshots which our children would look at someday with wonder, thinking their parents had lived smooth, well-ordered lives and got up in the morning to walk proudly on the sidewalks of life, never dreaming the raggedy madness and riot of our actual lives, our actual night, the hell of it, the senseless emptiness.”_

 

The motel lights shine bright in the dark of the highway, the flatlands stretching out on either side as the road never deviates, a line of black asphalt split only by the white line that blinks in the dark as they eat up the kilometres.

Jongin blinks; tries not to fall asleep so close to their destination. Sehun and Baekhyun are nodding off in the back seat, Baekhyun slumped over onto Sehun's shoulder, and Jongin feels a warm glow in his chest as he glances back at them through the mirror.

The suspension rocks as the car turns off onto gravel; Jongin tastes red in his mouth. _Oops._

"Are we there?" a voice creaks from the back; Sehun, rubbing his eyes as he blinks out at the looming dark.

Jongin resists the urge to ask, _where is there?_ It's been a long day and nothing quite seems real anymore, the endless highway, the fading summer. "We're just pulling into the motel," he says instead, "why don't you wake Baekhyun?"

Baekhyun groans, coaxed awake by Sehun nuzzling at his neck, pressing kisses to the soft curve of skin, and Jongin wishes he was in the back seat too. _Soon_ , he tells himself.

"A room for the night," he tells the girl behind in the desk in the office, a tiny square room with buzzing fan that still can't manage to break the remnants of the day's heat. "And do you have air-conditioning?" The tag on her shirt says _Seulgi_. Jongin wonders if she lives here, what her story is. He doesn't ask, just watches as she smooths sweating bangs away from her forehead.

"Yeah, the rooms have air-conditioning," she says, sounding bored. There's a glint of pink when she talks; Jongin guesses she's chewing bubblegum. "Is that for one person?"

"For three actually," Jongin says, handing over his card, and doesn't comment when she looks him over before handing him the keys.

 

_“The best teacher is experience and not through someone's distorted point of view.”_

 

For some reason, Jongin wasn't sure why, he didn't open the envelope right away. Baekhyun's glance was quizzical, the fold in his forehead smoothing as Sehun draped an arm over his shoulder and breathed in a mouthful of Baekhyun's hair.

"I'll open it later," Jongin said, and tucked in into his back pocket. He took a deep breath, and skipped the discarded pitcher of water on the counter, filling a glass from the faucet instead. The water was lukewarm on his tongue, tasting of summers in his childhood, warm sun on his face and dust in his mouth.

Baekhyun laughed, wriggling out of Sehun's arms and reaching out for Jongin, hands narrowly missing his elbow and colliding instead with his wrist, knocking the glass out of his grasp. It was as if time froze for a moment, hanging in the spring air like the lingering chill of winter as Jongin walked back from the Greek grocery on the corner.

Water arched out first, jumping into a pond in summer, the sounds of laughter, phantom memories emerging like wet faces facing the sun. The glass hit the ground, shattered over the tiles of the kitchen floor. Jongin blinked, hand still cupping empty air as tiny stinging pains pricked at the skin of his legs, his bare feet.

Like an unexpected letter, the memory, when recalled, only disintegrated into something else, unable to withstand the pressure of the present.

Baekhyun was the first to move, break the silence. "Are you okay?" he asked. His voice was loud, ringing unexpectedly in the hanging air. Jongin opened his mouth, lips dry.

"I'm fine," he said, slowly closing his hand, fingers still slick with water.

"You're such a disaster," Sehun said, tone affectionate as he cuffed Baekhyun gently over the head and grabbed a broom.

 

_“What is that feeling when you're driving away from people and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing? - it's the too-huge world vaulting us, and it's good-bye. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies.”_

 

Morning dawns too early. The sun is heat-sticky on his face, his mouth tastes sour, Sehun, sleeping, is draped over his chest, ear pressed to his ribs as though to reassure himself that Jongin is, still, in fact, breathing.

Jongin takes a deep breath of air that sticks in his chest. The air conditioner must have shut off in the night. He shifts, and Sehun grumbles in his sleep. Over on the edge of the double bed, Baekhyun is curled up against the wall.

 _I wonder if it's any cooler there._ Jongin reaches his free arm out to trace over the bumps of Baekhyun's spine, like the mountains hovering on the edge of their vision as they keep driving.

". . .'s too early," Sehun mumbles into the skin of Jongin's chest, warm air from his mouth brushing the sensitive skin of his nipple. He shivers, though the room is far from cool. The springs of the mattress creak, Baekhyun going from crumpled in the sheets to grumbling for coffee and stretching his back like a cat. Jongin is used to the sound of joints cracking.

"You can sleep in the car," Baekhyun says, and kicks Sehun out of bed, his bare feet grazing over the ridge of Jongin's hip bone as Sehun lands in a heap on the ground, bare ass thudding on the scuffed linoleum, and Baekhyun leans over to envelop Jongin's mouth in a kiss, a single skipped breath before Sehun catches his breath, complaining, and Baekhyun slips off the end of the bed in search of his jeans.

Jongin lies on the bed, suddenly empty, and listens to the sound of Sehun and Baekhyun bickering in the shower, someone whining about getting soap in their eyes. He smiles.

 

_“Boys and girls in America have such a sad time together; sophistication demands that they submit to sex immediately without proper preliminary talk. Not courting talk — real straight talk about souls, for life is holy and every moment is precious.”_

 

Sehun started sweeping up the glass, but inevitably slipped on the water-slick floor and came down card on a particularly large shard, shrieking as he hopped up and down on the other foot until Baekhyun managed to shove him up onto the counter.

"I've got this," Jongin said, reaching for the fall broom handle as Baekhyun started wielding the tweezers, a diabolic sparkle in his eyes. His skin felt too tight, somehow, as though the tiny pinpricks of glass that brushed his skin in the aftermath of the explosion of glass were only pointing out the fallacies in the comfort of his daily routine.

He thought, again, about the smudged return address, as he dumped the dustpan full of broken pieces into the garbage, and wiped up the spilled water with a paper towel.

"Baekhyun is evil," Sehun breathed into his ear, draping himself over Jongin's back as he stood at the kitchen sink, the cabinet with the garbage bin closed at his knee. _Trust Sehun to avoid the work._ The thought was affectionate, not annoyed, and Jongin tilted his head to find Sehun's complaining mouth with his lips.

"Stop complaining," Baekhyun said from somewhere behind them in the kitchen, a cabinet door falling shut; he was probably just finished putting the first aid kit away. "Jongin's already kissing it better."

Sehun pulled back to glare at Baekhyun over his shoulder, sticking out a pink tongue.

By the time Jongin got to the letter, it was growing dark outside and stars were just starting to come out. He unfolded the paper, yellowing with age, and skipped to the end to see who it was from.

_Taemin_

The letter didn't slip out of his hands like the glass had, but his fingers were still curled around emptiness.

 

_“Our battered suitcases were piled on the sidewalk again; we had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life.”_

 

It's in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by the stark desert and the few things that grow in the desolate landscape, nothing flowering in the heat of summer. Jongin doesn't know what he expected. Something.

Anything.

But the past is like that, smaller in the rearview mirror.

He walks along the few rows, the marble roughed by the wind blowing sand across their surfaces.

Taemin

It's written on the marble tombstone, a stark period dotted onto the end of a sentence that he's left hanging too long. Jongin stand there, and realizes that he didn't bring anything to leave on the grave.

Somehow he's always unprepared for the big things in life.

There's a slight crunch behind him, a warm breath of air on his shoulder, and Baekhyun steps up beside him, not saying anything for a change, but slipping a small bunch of flowers into Jongin's hand.

"I figured you'd have forgotten," he says quietly, not asking if Jongin is okay.

_How are you supposed to feel when you're finally at your childhood best friend's grave?_

Some things don't have answers. He leans down to lay the flowers on the sandy earth at the foot of the tombstone, straightening before he decides, at the last minute, to slip the crumpled letter out of his back pocket and put it there too.

When he stands again, Sehun's fingers are warm against the skin of his arm; Jongin reaches for his hand and tangles their fingers together. Baekhyun reaches for his other hand, squeezing it for just a moment before he lets go.

On the way back to the car, Jongin thinks about the flowers, wilting in the summer heat.

They won't last, but that's okay.

 

_“I was surprised, as always, be how easy the act of leaving was, and how good it felt. The world was suddenly rich with possibility.”_

 

**Author's Note:**

> The title and all quotes are from Jack Kerouac’s [On the road](https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/1701188).
> 
> Written for [triplethreatskb](http://triplethreatskb.livejournal.com/). Originally posted [here](http://triplethreatskb.livejournal.com/4391.html).  
>  **Prompt:** [22] sekaibaek go on a road trip in search of a long-lost friend and learns the true meaning of love, life and loss. jongin's pov, hurt-comfort, sekaibaek already in a relationship, the friend they're searching for is jongin's old best friend.


End file.
